


Weird Fishes

by azareth



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mentioned Physical Abuse, Not Canon Compliant, Superpowers, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 08:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24846532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azareth/pseuds/azareth
Summary: Jaskier doesn't think he has a superpower until he meets Geralt, who can't believe he's finally met someone who's able to see him.Prompt via@palettes-and-prompts.Written for@Geraskier Fun Day: Superpowers
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 232
Collections: Geraskier Fun Day





	Weird Fishes

The word ‘special’ must have lost its meaning when Jaskier was born. He came into a world where most people were engineered, genetically designed before even manifesting in the womb, and almost invariably arriving with some kind of superpower.

Jaskier’s parents were outliers, after countless attempts having him the old fashioned way, and from the moment their miracle baby opened his blue eyes, they said he was special. He remembered being two, maybe three years old, and not understanding what was special about needing glasses to see, and being made to wear them no less, when other kindergarteners could make objects levitate or shoot lasers -- harmless, for the most part -- out of their eyes.

While his peers manipulated anything from elements to the emotions of teachers into favoring them, Jaskier put in double the effort just to pass his classes and graduate on time. He loved music, but it was like even instruments knew he was untalented and ordinary, never complying despite his ten thousand hours.

With a marine biologist father and a veterinarian mother, he’d grown up with pets, and Jaskier gravitated toward animals whenever social interactions seemed unnecessarily complicated. He studied them for years, became a zoologist, and kept at it until field work and walking a few kilometers to inventory an endangered species of wolves, became his tranquil, ordinary life away from society.

Tranquil, until day sixty-seven of his latest field research trip when, just as he was making ready to leave his subjects for the day, Jaskier observed a most unusual sight. A kind of mitt, clasped steadfastly within one of the wolves’ maw. Jaskier frowned and quickly procured his binoculars, auto-zooming to find his eyes hadn’t betrayed him.

“Absurd,” Jaskier decided, after a full five minutes of just standing there.

He spent the walk back to his cottage wondering whether he ought to call this in. Technically the area was on its way to become protected territory. No houses were allowed standing beyond a certain radius. Even Jaskier, who worked there, had to keep a set distance. Where on earth would an oven mitt, of all things, have come from?

The next morning found Jaskier starting earlier than usual, curious if the mitt would still be with the pack, and wondering if he was going to uncover something illegal. He saw from a distance the poor mitten was torn to shreds, the wolves otherwise engaging in normal behavior. The sun had yet to fully rise. Jaskier settled in his usual spot to observe for a few moments longer prior to starting on his daily behavior recording.

The wolves raised and turned their heads, becoming alert, and a man advanced, so casually patting the creatures on the head, Jaskier tripped out of his chair when he tried to stand to get a closer look. The figure crouched among the wolves and, to Jaskier’s mild horror, cleaned up the mitten shreds.

Dangerous. Illegal. Jaskier had to call this in. No, first he had to get the man away from there, before he turned into the destroyed mitten. Jaskier hated to do so, but it wasn’t the first time he’d blown his cover to get a human out of a potentially dangerous situation in the wild.

The whistle rang acutely through the air, making the wolves stand at attention and, Jaskier saw through the binoculars attached to his cap, causing the man to rise, face Jaskier’s direction, and then run.

“Oh, dear.”

***

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It made no sense. Geralt thought it served him right, leaving the back door open. The wolves were always padding through, though the older ones knew to stick with their pack and leave the human alone, for the most part.

Geralt knew most of them since they were pups, knew even where they’d migrated from. The field researcher wasn’t supposed to see him. Six months that man occupied the same spot. Geralt usually saw him arrive in the morning, leave by three or four in the afternoon. But he’d never come this early before and judging from his whistling, his frantic gesturing, he’d seen Geralt.

He wasn’t supposed to do that. The wolves could, because animals retained their sixth sense, in a world increasingly engineered. Only a matter of time before humans got to animals, a day Geralt dreaded. But not more than that morning’s occurrence.

Geralt stayed away the rest of the day and night, kept his back door closed though he came out to interact with the wolves at night. It was still dark the next day when sleep pulled him out of his shack. That scientist shouldn’t have whistled, but Geralt had to be sure. He had to know, after all these years, if someone else was finally capable.

He skipped his morning round to the pack, knowing they would likely travel that day anyway, and crossed the wilderness. About two kilometers from the wolves’ usual location was the field researcher’s set up, its owner crouched before a backpack.

Geralt pulled a tree branch away and observed. Dressed like the city people, plenty of high-tech equipment coming from his bag, and… purple glasses. Geralt tilted his head. Most people were born with perfect eye-sight, or quickly corrected, with additional night vision. No one wore glasses anymore. He stepped on a twig and it snapped noisily, causing the field researcher to jump.

Geralt immediately hid behind the tree.

“Who’s there?” the researcher called, in a worried voice.

Geralt didn’t answer, heart racing in a way it hadn’t in decades.

“Hello?”

This was why he’d tracked the man down, wasn’t it? To be sure? After all this time, Geralt found he was still scared. But he had to know.

“I have a taser,” tried the field researcher, “so unless you’re a rabbit, don’t you try anything, you hear?”

Geralt emerged slowly from the brush, hands raised in surrender. The field researcher went tense. Geralt gulped, searching for his voice.

“Sir, I must warn you this area is soon to be under protection,” the field researcher began, bravely, “and you’re not allowed to be here unless you have the right paperwork.”

Geralt couldn’t believe his eyes, or ears. So, he laughed.

“Wh-What’s so funny?” the field researcher asked.

“You can really see me?” Geralt said.

“Uh, y-yes?”

Geralt felt the air slowly go out of him, his smile broadening. _Finally_.

***

The fellow was… odd, if Jaskier were asked to choose a word, but friendly. Harmless, most importantly, as he sat on the ground in the mid-morning sun with his knees raised, and stared in wonder at Jaskier like it had been ages since he saw another fellow human.

“Well,” Jaskier realized, remembering his words, “I suppose it has been what, almost two decades since you’ve been out here? I mean, how did you live?”

“Land provides. I grow some stuff. Sometimes when the pack goes hunting, something lands on my doorstep.”

“Seriously?” Jaskier looked dubiously on.

Geralt, as he’d said his name was, disregarded the question with one of his own. “Are you one of the genies?”

“No.” Jaskier wasn’t asked often, but it took most people one look at his ordinary face to realize he’d not been genetically modified pre-birth. “I still get colds, believe it or not, and this eyesight isn’t getting any better.”

“I don’t believe you,” Geralt said. “You have superpowers.”

“No, I don’t,” Jaskier huffed, vaguely annoyed. “I can do nothing remarkable. Why do you think I’m out here surveying wolves? People and their perfections and their powers nowadays, they’re just… too much.”

“No, you’re wrong.” Geralt suddenly took to his feet, snatching Jaskier by the wrist. At his protest, Geralt said, “I want to show you something.”

They went to the bank of the nearby lake at a brisk pace Jaskier questioned a few times. They arrived and his wrist was freed. He puffed, catching his breath.

“Why did you bring me here?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt crouched by the water bank and gestured for Jaskier to do the same. “Come. See for yourself.”

Jaskier reluctantly lowered beside this man, whom he was still uncertain about.

“Alright,” he said, “what am I looking at?” His reflection stared skeptically back at him. Jaskier turned to Geralt. “Well?”

“Look closer, in the water.” As though to encourage him, Geralt leaned closer to the bank.

And his reflection should have been visible, beside Jaskier’s. But the lake showed only one man. Jaskier gasped.

***

Geralt had to leave, after the lake, because Jaskier ran away. Disappointing, but maybe he was scared. He had a funny name, but Geralt liked the happy way it sounded. _Jaskier_. It was hard to believe the man wasn’t one of the genies, as such a huge percentage of the population, but Jaskier definitely had a superpower.

The field researcher was absent the next day, and the day after that. Geralt went to the usual spots and waited, with no luck until the sun set. The wolves also left but Geralt knew they would be back. He wanted to see Jaskier again and so, one morning, Geralt set out at dawn and walked until the path led him to civilization.

This was the only part of the remote area where people lived. Before retreating to the mountain side, Geralt used to come down early on for seeds and other things he could plant. He didn’t like stealing and hadn’t had to do it in a very long time. Even though no one could see him, Geralt had never liked dishonesty.

It was hard to tell where Jaskier could be or if he even lived here, so Geralt decided to camp out, watch, and wait. A day later he saw, at sunrise, a man emerge into his backyard with a steaming mug in his hands. Geralt collected his backpack, quickly doused his face with some water to wake up, and walked straight to Jaskier’s property, right up to the low back fence.

The mug fell and broke, as the field researcher was scared into retreating once again.

“Ah, fuck,” Geralt mumbled, quickly coming around to the front. He rang the doorbell and pulled down his bag to rummage quickly through it.

“What do you want?” came Jaskier’s wary voice from inside.

Geralt looked up at the door with a confused frown. “Jaskier? Hi… I just wanted to ask… why did you run away the other day?”

“Please leave, or I will have to call the authorities.”

“Well, they wouldn’t be able to see me…”

“Go away,” Jaskier said, “please just--”

“Okay, alright.” Geralt rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stalk you, or anything. Um, I brought you something.”

He deposited it carefully on the front steps. “I hope you like it. It’s from my garden. Anyway, sorry again. I, uh, haven’t talked to anyone in almost thirty years. And no one has been able to see me in even longer, so…”

Fuck, he was rambling far, far too much. “I’ll go then, sorry. Oh, but I’ll be at the lakefront. I like to sit there when the wolves leave. In case, I don’t know, you change your mind, or… yeah. Okay. Sorry. Have a good day.”

_Have a good day?_

Geralt stepped away from the cottage, leaving the remote area in silence. He went to the lake, not sure what to expect. At sunset, when there was no sign of Jaskier, Geralt returned to his invisible abode.

***

Jaskier thought the package might be dangerous. Then, he unfurled the faded table cloth and found a small bouquet of various herbs -- lavender, rosemary, and thyme -- and a little jar of jam. There was a note: _The land provides_. And after deciding it was probably safe to open the quaint mason jar, he smelled raspberry.

He should have called this in. Whatever Geralt was doing out in the wilderness might not be legal and authorities might raze any sign of humans there to protect the wolves. But Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to make the call. He debated with himself for a whole week about it, each time he opened the fridge and eyed that jar of preserves.

One day, he caved, and packed the jam (he’d used the thyme and rosemary to cook, and vased the lavender), bread, water, and set out for the lake. He shouldn’t have, and Geralt probably wouldn’t be there, but Jaskier had to know if the entirety of his life had been a lie.

Geralt was sitting on the bank with his back to the wilderness when Jaskier finally arrived. The strange man took to his feet immediately and fixed Jaskier with his surprised, aureate eyes.

“You came,” Geralt said.

“I did.” Jaskier approached tentatively and set down his bag, aware of the way Geralt followed his every move.

“Did you like the jam I made you?” Geralt asked, eagerly.

“I didn’t… try it.”

“Oh.” Geralt considered that and then said, “Do you prefer blueberries? Or maybe apricots. They’re not really in season right now though--”

“Geralt,” Jaskier cut him off. “Forget about the jam for a second. What are you doing in the wild? And… why are you invisible?”

“I live here,” Geralt shrugged, and sat down by the bank again.

“What, in the woods? With the wolves?”

“No. I live in a house,” he said. “Not the biggest but, I built it, and it’s home. The wolves know how to get there.”

“You shouldn’t be engaging with them.”

“Why not?” Geralt asked.

“They’re an endangered species,” Jaskier said. “My job is to make sure the land is protected so their numbers can eventually go back to what they were.”

“Well, I don’t hurt them,” Geralt said. “I’m just a neighbor really. Anyway, animals are the only ones who can see me, usually.”

Jaskier turned to him. “Is that your superpower? Invisibility?”

“It used to be temporary. When I was a kid,” Geralt said, staring at the water, “I could hide and come back to being visible. One day I just stayed like this, I guess.”

Jaskier frowned, wondering if that was on purpose. “I don’t know why or how I can see you.”

“Easy,” Geralt said, “that’s _your_ power.”

“No,” Jaskier shook his head. “I’m not like the others. I’m not supposed to be able to do anything.”

“Well, you are.”

“Well, I don’t want to be!”

Geralt flinched, a part of Jaskier feeling bad at the ensuing silence.

“Look, Geralt, I’ve spent all my life believing I’m ordinary, alright? I can’t start being ‘special’. Not… not now, when I finally have some peace.”

“Special is not all it’s cracked up to be,” Geralt said to that. “Used to be a game for me when I was small. Some of the nuns would tell me to hide when the bad tempered ones came, with their stick. Sometimes I got away, but not always. As I got older, I wished so hard I could stay invisible, to escape the beatings, one day it just worked. No one ever saw me again.”

It was Jaskier’s turn to quieten and for the first time, he considered Geralt, wondering if the silver hair and yellow eyes were a deliberate choice, or if he was given up at birth to the state, like so many mistakes in genetic engineering.

“I don’t know what to say,” Jaskier murmured.

“That’s okay. You can see me. Can you tell me one thing? How do I look?”

“H-How do you… what? You can’t see yourself?”

“I mean, I can see my arm if I raise it. I can see my legs. But I don’t have a reflection, Jaskier.”

“Oh... Wow.” The zoologist marveled and assessed Geralt more closely, at a loss for words.

“I can go first, if you want,” Geralt suggested, shifting his cross-legged stance to face Jaskier. “Let’s see. Your eyes are bright blue. You have brown hair, it’s short, and kind of flops on your forehead. In-in a nice way, though. You’re pale, you have nice arms, broad shoulders. Hairy, um, hmm… Really hairy chest…” Color started on Geralt’s nose and spread, accentuated by the sunlight. “And those purple glasses look nice on you.”

“I… Really?”

“Me next,” Geralt quickly suggested.

“Okay,” Jaskier cleared his throat. “Um, well… you look very, um, rugged.”

Geralt stilled, softened visibly, and smiled in the direction of the lake. He wouldn’t meet Jaskier’s eye for longer than a second, for the remainder of the description, despite how detailed and accurate it may have been, seeming unable to get rid of his blush.

“I brought some food,” Jaskier finally said, fetching a picnic blanket and the items from his bag. “I do like raspberries, actually.”

“You do?” Geralt livened. “I’ll make you another batch. Do you like cucumbers?”

“Yes?”

“I grow them. I grow all kinds of things.”

Jaskier smiled softly and shared his bread, spreading a generous amount of jam for both of them. He bit into his portion and regretted not having come by the lake a week earlier, to see invisible, yet very visible Geralt.

They talked, having more in common than Jaskier had initially wanted to see. Both loners, more at ease at the edge of the world around nature and animals than their advanced human counterparts.

When it was late enough for him to start back, so as not to reach home by dark, Jaskier rose and Geralt did the same.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” Geralt asked.

“No,” Jaskier replied. “I have calls all day.”

“Hmm. I don’t have a phone.”

Jaskier laughed. “No, I don’t suppose you do. I should wonder how you live without one, but somehow I don’t.”

“Well, I don’t talk to anyone. Except the wolves. But they just left again and won’t be back for another three weeks. Will you come back in a week?”

Jaskier stared at Geralt and something in the man’s expression softened him tremendously.

“I will return here the day after tomorrow,” Jaskier said. “And then, if you’d like, perhaps you can show me where you live? Since you’ve already found my cottage.”

“Okay. Sure.” Geralt smiled. “The day after tomorrow. I’ll bring the jam. And cucumbers.”

“Thank you. I really must be going now. Bye for now, Geralt.”

“Bye, Jaskier.”

**Author's Note:**

> [aalizazareth.tumblr.com](https://aalizazareth.tumblr.com/post/621636648042692609/weird-fishes)


End file.
